Play On (Game On Book 4)

by Kyra Lennon

  “What is it?”

  “Are you and Miguel fighting?”

  Her question threw me and started the dramatic pounding in my chest again. “What makes you ask that?”

  “I don’t know. You just looked a little uncomfortable together when you were skating.”

  Oh God. How much did she see? Did she see how close we’d gotten? Did she think there was something happening between us? The questions whizzed through my mind and I had to remind myself to calm down because she hadn’t implied any of those things.

  But she had noticed the awkwardness.

  “We’re not fighting,” I told her, forcing a smile.

  “Something’s up though. Do you need space from him again? You two have been getting along so much better lately.”

  I needed space. From everyone who might have seen something I didn’t understand yet. What vibes were we giving off that Bree saw them from across the room?

  “Everything’s fine. I promise.” Bree smiled but I wasn’t sure she bought my lie. “I need some fresh air. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After a quick word with the doormen to let them know I’d be returning, I paused to remove my skates before heading outside.

  The music quietened as the doors closed behind me and I leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath. The parking lot was quiet, most people already inside enjoying themselves, so I took a few more long breaths in and out to calm myself.

  The year had thrown me two enormous curveballs, changing the journey I thought I was on and leaving me lost in my own life.

  I re-wound my memories back to the night I spent with Miguel. We were insane to think it wouldn’t change anything.

  It changed everything.

  We slept together when we’d reached our lowest points and we’d used sex like some kind of magic tool to fix the bits of us that were broken. That’s not what sex is for; I’d never used it that way before but it had done the thing I wanted it to do. It made me feel. But what I felt now was confusion.

  It wasn’t Miguel I wanted, it was closeness and he had provided it.

  If that were true, what the hell just happened in there?

  For the three weeks we’d been back in each other’s lives, Miguel and I had grown closer. We’d gone out for dinner, hung out with the rest of our friends, had late night talks on the phone, and spent the occasional evening at my place wearing our most casual clothes and playing video games. He’d brought laughter back into my life with his chilled out ways and he’d started to creep into my thoughts when he wasn’t around.

  “You can tell me to go away if you want to.”

  Miguel’s voice made my breath catch again. I knew he’d follow me, but I wasn’t ready yet. Hadn’t figured out what to do or say. I raised my head. He stood close to the doorway, barefoot just like me, hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly to one side.

  “I can’t do this, Miguel.”

  “I didn’t ask you for anything.”

  “I know, I know. But this… I don’t know, our friendship, it’s all messed up and-”

  Miguel stepped towards me and wrapped his fingers around the tops of my arms. Calm spread through me from his touch. Light. Gentle.

  “I don’t know what just happened in there but I do know that being around you has been the best thing for me, and I think you feel the same way. I think we need each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I shook my head. “There’s something very wrong about us almost kissing.”

  “We slept together, Freya. We’ve done the kissing thing.”

  “That was different.” I shrugged out of his hold and turned my back on him, pacing. “That night was weird, and we were mad at each other and we-” I gave up, not knowing what else to say. We’d done this. Had this conversation over and over, and we’d both accepted the reasons. Both knew they weren’t good enough. Both knew we wanted to cling to each other and heal each other’s pain. But that didn’t make it okay. Far from it.

  “I don’t know what to do here.” Miguel sighed. “I feel like I can’t win no matter what. I’m not gonna tell you I didn’t want to kiss you in there, because I did, and it kills me. It kills me because I shouldn’t want this, and I don’t know why I want it now when all we ever were was friends. Something’s changed and I hate it because I know it’s wrong.”

  I tilted my head back, casting my eyes skyward as if an answer might come to me from above. Hell, if anyone could have used a miracle, it was me.

  The truth was, the answers had to be come from me. I’d relied on so many people for so many things but nobody could solve this for me. Nobody knew my feelings, and how would I have begun to explain them? Couldn’t I just slip back into the land of denial and pretend none of this mattered? That sleeping with Miguel was a perfectly acceptable part of grieving and that we’d move on from it without any emotional scars?

  “Maybe we should stay away from each other for a while,” I whispered, my gaze still on the dark sky above.

  Silence. The longest silence I could remember.

  “Miguel.”

  “If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. We’ll see each other less. We’ll just be colleagues.”

  Except we won’t because we have this enormous thing between us! I let out a growl, and spun to face him again.

  “What other choice is there?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears as I stared at him. “Tell me what other choice we have.”

  Miguel’s deep brown eyes glistened, forcing my own tears to spill. “Well, the other choice is that we don’t change anything. We keep seeing each other whenever we want to and just let this play out.”

  I shook my head again. “We have to fight it.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why!”

  Miguel ate up the distance between us in a couple of long strides and cupped my face in his hands, his fingers firm but gentle on my cheeks. “And you know it doesn’t work that way. You try to fight something, it gets stronger. You fight harder, and it starts to take over every part of your life until you’re hiding from something that might not be as scary as you made it. This scares me, Freya. The way I’ve been feeling about you scares me. It makes me hate myself. I know every reason this is wrong, but I can’t stop it. I’m tired of trying.”

  The pain in his eyes told me he was every bit as confused and scared and conflicted as I was and I leaned my forehead against his. His hands slid from my cheeks down to my shoulders and his thumbs linked behind my neck.

  “I can’t date you,” I whispered. “I can’t.”

  “I’m not asking for that. I’m just asking you to be honest. I’m asking you to let this be whatever it is.”

  “What are we supposed to do about the guilt?”

  He gave me a small smile. “I never said I had all the answers.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to slow my thoughts so I could focus on what he was saying. What he offered, what we were potentially offering each other, sounded like a friends with benefits deal. That wasn’t us though. That wasn’t what he meant or what we wanted, and it wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it would be.

  “Stop. Thinking. Just for now. Please.”

  My hands moved almost involuntarily to his back, and I leaned into him. “Okay. Just for now.”

  His mouth met mine in an instant; everything I’d tried not to feel freed, pouring out of me into a kiss that felt as right as it did wrong. The softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch and the way his tongue gently probed for entry forced my worries aside. My body sagged against his and I let his warmth fill me up and block out a little more of the chill inside me.

  “Holy shit.”

  The spell was broken with those words and Miguel and I broke apart to find Ethan and Tommy Salinger, staring at us.

  This is what I get for living in the moment.

  The horror on Tommy’s face stabbed at my insides and I pushed past Miguel and ran back inside, away from the looks of judgment. If I’d h
ad shoes on, I’d have run straight to my car and driven home, but instead I had to go back to the party I’d only just left and try to act as if nothing had happened.

  Hard as I’d tried to fight it, something had happened. I’d let Miguel kiss me, I’d kissed him back. Not because we were emotional and needed each other; because we wanted to.

  On my way inside, I scooped up my skates, trying to blink away tears, because crying did not fall into the category of “acting normal”.

  Everyone would know about this by the end of the night, and I hadn’t even figured out what “this” was.

  “Freya, wait!”

  I barely heard it over the sound of the music. Ethan. I whirled around to face him.

  “Please,” I begged. “Don’t say anything.”

  Ethan’s eyes were softer than I’d expected. Of course, he’d never met Will so maybe he wouldn’t judge me so harshly, but he didn’t know me well enough to be the one chasing after me. He was a good guy, but we weren’t friends. Not yet.

  “Slow down,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me over to the side of the room, a little way from the doors where the doormen eyed me suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

  I let out a bitter laugh. “Why is that the only question people ask me these days? I’m not okay, Ethan. I’m fucked up.”

  He flinched, probably because cussing wasn’t my thing. He’d never heard me speak that way before.

  “I didn’t follow you to be a pain in the ass. I followed you to calm you down. I don’t want to get involved; I just went outside with Tommy for a smoke. If you promise not to judge me for having a sneaky cigarette on a night out, I won’t judge you for what I saw. Deal?”

  His attempt at lightening my mood worked, and I nodded, relaxing a little. “Deal.”

  I was about to offer him a drink when the doormen fled outside. I felt the colour drain from my cheeks as Ethan and I exchanged a panicked look and ran out after them.

  Miguel had Tommy pinned up against the wall; not an easy thing to do since Tommy was at least a foot taller than Miguel. I’d never seen Miguel so angry; his eyes blazed with rage and his hands shoved against Tommy’s chest, slamming him into the wall again. The doormen grabbed Miguel and pulled him away, and Tommy made a hasty retreat back into the disco while Miguel struggled to get free.

  “You need to go home. Now,” one of the doormen said, looking at Miguel before turning to me and adding, “Get him out of here.”

  My mouth opened and closed, totally lost for words at what I’d witnessed.

  “Their stuff is still inside,” Ethan said. “Can we at least go in and get it?”

  “You go. These two are staying out here.”

  I flicked my eyes back to Miguel as one of the doormen escorted Ethan inside, and the other reluctantly let Miguel go and went back to his position. He glared as he walked by, as if this was somehow my fault.

  Miguel, still seething, took off towards my car. Both of us were still barefoot, and the gravel pricked at my heels and toes with every step as I hobbled after him, wincing as sharp bits of stone clung to my feet.

  “What the hell?” I asked as he stopped by my car.

  Miguel leaned back against it, blowing out a breath. “He’s going to tell everyone.”

  “Of course he is now you’ve attacked him! Why would you do that?”

  His eyes shifted down to the ground, and my heart quickly followed as understanding crept over me.

  “What did he say, Miguel?”

  Like I couldn’t have guessed. Just because I hadn’t heard with my own ears, didn’t mean I didn’t know. He thought Miguel was a bastard and I was a whore.

  “You don’t want to hear it.”

  I didn’t need to. I had a feeling I’d be hearing it over and over again for the next few days at least. Probably longer. That was if anyone could stand to speak to me.

  This was everything I didn’t want, and as it all crashed down on me again, the overbearing weight of what I’d done, of my betrayal, pushed hard on my, stealing my breath.

  “Now what?” I rubbed my hand across my aching forehead. “How are we supposed to handle this?”

  “I don’t know. This is all my fault. This was not the right place for us to talk.”

  “It’s not all your fault. I had a say in this. I kissed you back.” I lifted my head. “I wanted to kiss you.”

  Miguel straightened and took a step forward, reaching out for my hands. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I think we have to make a choice. Soon everyone will know Tommy saw us kissing, and we need to tell them something.”

  “I’d like to tell them to mind their own business.”

  Miguel smiled, gently pulling me into him and resting his hands on my waist. “Me too. But that’s not what they want to hear.”

  “The only thing we can do is tell them it was a mistake. I got upset, you comforted me, we let things get out of control. That’s the only explanation they’ll maybe accept.”

  “It’s not the truth.”

  “The truth sucks!” I pushed him away, glaring. This wasn’t his fault but I wished things were different. Wished I could turn back the clock. “What are we supposed to do? Tell them we’re getting it on when Will only died five months ago?”

  “Don’t do that,” Miguel said through gritted teeth. “Don’t make it sound so cold.”

  “It is cold! Who other than cold-hearted people would do something like this? We’re going to lose everyone, Miguel!” I pointed towards the building where our friends were probably learning about our betrayal as we spoke. “All those people in there who have been so good to us are going to hate us for this! Tommy already proved that!”

  “And what did Ethan say?”

  I shook my head. “He said he didn’t want to get involved. It’s different for him though. He didn’t know Will.”

  “Freya.” Miguel turned me to face him and rested one hand against my cheek. I closed my eyes for a second, once again letting his calmness flow through me. How did he do that? How did he manage to calm me in any situation? Especially one as serious as this. “Whatever we tell people, we need to be on the same page and I don’t want this to end with us avoiding each other again. We still need each other. That’s just about the only thing that hasn’t changed. Don’t let this ruin how far we’ve come.”

  Chapter 9 – The Queen of Bad Decisions

  I had no idea how long I’d been in bed. I drove Miguel home the night before then went home, put on my PJs, turned off my cell and unplugged my landline, and climbed under my comforter.

  I hadn’t slept, just stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of my life. As the daylight crept in through the gap in the curtains, the photo of Will and me on the dresser came into view, our smiling faces torturing me.

  I stared at it; the captured memory causing an ache in my chest. The photo had been taken at Genie’s one night when Will and I had gone out because we didn’t feel like cooking. By coincidence, Bree and Jude were there too. Bree, in her usual way, had gushed about how cute we were, and she just had to take our picture. In the photo, our cheeks touched, both of us smiling, happiness making our eyes glimmer.

  At least Will knew I loved him. So many people lose loved ones, and carry the burden of not knowing whether the person they lost knew how much they were cared for. I never had that fear. Will knew I loved him and I knew he loved me. We told each other every single day. “I love you” was the last thing I said to him before he left that day and never came home. That love had both helped me and crippled me at the same time. It kept my heart beating in the moments when I wanted it to stop, but loving someone so much when you can’t be with them anymore, can’t reach them to tell them, weighs you down. I was drowning in the same love that had once kept me afloat.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks, my eyes still fixed on the photograph. At the man I still loved, and would love for the rest of my life.

  “What am I going to do?” I said aloud. “What the hell am I going to d
o?”

  A loud knock on my door broke into my thoughts and jolted me back into the real world. There was no way I was answering the knock. Not while I still had no idea what to say to anyone.

  The knocking grew louder, more persistent and I took a few long breaths. They’d give up when I didn’t answer; for all they knew I’d stayed somewhere else for the night. That’s what a smart person would have done. I should have gone to my mom’s house to avoid reality until I absolutely couldn’t put it off any longer.

  “Freya, open the damn door!”

  The voice accompanying the banging belonged to Leah, who was just about the last person I was ready to face. I contemplated ignoring her but she didn’t stop hammering. “I can stay here all day pissing off the neighbours, Freya! Let me in!”

  Crap. I leapt off the bed and ran down the hallway. Leah’s arm was poised ready to knock again when I flung the door open. When she saw me, still in my nightclothes and my hair in disarray, she lowered her hand.

  “I was about to admit defeat,” she said softly, her eyes fixed firmly on mine.

  My tears fell harder and I lowered my head. I knew she wasn’t mad at me and it made me feel worse. She should have been mad. Instead, her eyes only held kindness and I sank to the floor, eaten up with guilt.

  Leah squeezed through the gap in the door, closing it behind her, and reached down for my hands. “I’d sit beside you, but if I get down there I’ll never get up again.”

  An awkward snort/giggle erupted from me and I let her pull me to my feet and lead me to the living room. The moment we sat down on the sofa, Leah and I wound our arms around each other and I sobbed into her shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Leah. I’m sorry.”

  “What’s happened?” she asked, gently. “Tell me.”

  “You don’t know?” I lifted my head, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

  Leah shook her head. “I’ve been on the wrong end of misunderstandings so I don’t believe anything until I’ve spoken to the person involved.”

  “You know something.”

  “I heard some things last night.”

  I couldn’t tell what she was thinking; her face was totally neutral and I shuffled back a little, readying myself to confirm the things she already knew. With a sigh, I ran my hands through my hair. “Could you make this easier for me? What did you hear?”